


Black Light Virgin

by marguerite_26



Series: Pornathon 2013 [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clubbing, First Time, Hook-Up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 23:03:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marguerite_26/pseuds/marguerite_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Across the back of the bloke's shirt is a handwritten: <i>VIRGIN, please help!!!</i> The hundreds of black lights mounted throughout the club make the letters glow like a motel advertising a vacancy. The kid looks over his shoulder at Arthur; with those cheekbones, he’s not going to be lonely for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Light Virgin

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Ультрафиолетовый девственник](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619701) by [bitter_zephyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitter_zephyr/pseuds/bitter_zephyr)



> Written originally for Summerpornathon - I finally found the time and inspiration to expand it. 
> 
> Thanks to [eleadore](http://archiveofourown.org/users/eleadore/pseuds/eleadore) for the beta of the original version, and [faithwood](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faithwood/pseuds/faithwood) for the beta of the longer one.

**Black Light Virgin**

The dance floor’s packed, a blur of colour around Arthur. His last drink is just starting to make his skin tingle when he’s smacked across the back of his head.

He spins, fist already pulled back -- even though Morgana would flay him for starting a fight in her club on a Friday night. Behind him is a kid (barely legal from the look of him) with flailing limbs and a long, lanky body that moves fluid and reckless in the crowd, laughter shaking him entirely as he tries to prove he’s got the moves like Jagger.

Arthur lowers his fist and snorts at what this ridiculous kid’s wearing -- across the back of his shirt is handwritten: _VIRGIN, please help!!!_ The hundreds of black lights mounted throughout the club make the letters glow like a motel advertising a vacancy. The kid looks over his shoulder at Arthur; with those cheekbones, he’s not going to be lonely for long.

Ignoring the twist of temptation in the pit of his belly, Arthur heads towards the bar. He’s not on the pull tonight; he is never on the pull here because Morgana’s probably up in her office behind that one-way mirror, watching every bad decision he makes with a smirk on her face.

Unsurprisingly, she finds Arthur not long after. "He's perfect for you."

"Who?" he says, like his eyes haven't stopped at the dance floor with every sweep of the room, settling on flailing arms and fine-boned wrists as they try to find some sense of rhythm. 

Morgana just laughs. She leans in and says, "Have some fun for once," and Arthur can feel something being shoved into his pocket. He yanks it out after she's disappeared into the crowd and finds a single key. The chain attached has a cheap plastic tag that reads simply _supply_. 

"I don't even want to know," he mutters, shoving the key into his pocket to return to her later -- without requesting an explanation. 

He’s dropping some notes on the bar for his next gin and tonic when he feels the heat of someone at his elbow.

“Hello!” 

Arthur turns and there's the kid with his bright blue eyes so unexpectedly close and overwhelming that Arthur takes a step back. The bloke's t-shirt has the star-spangled shield of some comic hero on the front. He wonders if the message scribbled on the back makes it ironic.

Arthur doesn’t get the joke, if there is one. “Nice shirt,” he says anyway.

“Gwaine gave it to me for my birthday!” The words are slurred. He looks around, swaying a little. "Where is he? Bastard just took off with a stunning brunette." He leans into Arthur like he's got a secret to share. "She looked like she ate boys' souls for breakfast. Or lunch. Something. Really red lips. Anyway. It's my birthday, yeah." He waves a pink novelty cup in front of Arthur’s face that reads: _It’s my birthday, buy me a drink._

“You’re pretty demanding about your birthday presents, aren’t you?”

The kid shoots him a cheeky grin. He’s turned to the side and Arthur can just make out the _help!!!_ curving along his waist. “You offering?”

A sharp, surprised laugh escapes Arthur’s throat. “Does that actually work?”

“Not yet. I’m Merlin, by the way.” He shakes his empty pink cup again. “I was hoping you’d be the first.”

It’s so blatant a proposition, Arthur finds himself choking on his own spit. Damn, the boy was ridiculous. And tempting. _You never let yourself have anything nice_ , Morgana’s always saying. _He's perfect for you,_ rings in his mind and he knows she's right. His usual type: rich, superficial assholes were far too much like himself and were terrible for him -- shitty lays with shitty morning afters that left him feeling more lonely than satisfied.

Merlin's eyebrows are raised, grin sincere and hopeful as he waits for Arthur to accept or not.

“Fuck it.” Arthur grabs Merlin’s wrist and drags him down a dark hallway. They're on their way to the toilets when he passes a door marked _Supply_. He laughs loud enough that Merlin looks at him with serious concern, but Arthur just pulls out the key from his pocket and says, “In here.”

Merlin’s eyes are wide, but he lets himself be manhandled without complaint. “What -- what are we doing?”

“It’s fine. I know the owner. No one will bother us.”

“What?” 

“It’ll be fine,” Arthur says, already undoing his belt. “You got stuff?" 

Merlin blinks. “Um.” Merlin’s eyes flicker to his empty cup as though he regrets not getting his refill, then his eyes fall on the V of Arthur's open pants and his ears go pink.

“Top or bottom?” Arthur asks.

“Jesus.”

He smirks. “Nope. Ar--th--ur.” His pants and trousers are already pushed down his thighs and he tugs at Merlin’s shirt. In the normal lighting of the supply cupboard, the words at the back have completely disappeared.

Merlin stammers, “are you taking the piss?”

Arthur looks down at his hard dick, hanging low between his legs. He’s a little bit above average size. Maybe Merlin’s nervous for his first time. “Just want a blowie, then?” Arthur's fine with that too. 

“Yeah. God, yeah, okay.” Merlin starts to tug on his belt; Arthur takes that as a cue to grab a towel off the shelf (whatever, Morgana will never know he actually used the key) and place it on the floor by Merlin’s feet. “This is the strangest moment of my life.”

“Yeah.” It’s Arthur’s too, but then again, he has never met anyone whose smiles make his blood surge like this kid’s.

Merlin’s got a beautiful cock to go with his beautiful _everything_. How he’s still a virgin is frankly unfathomable. His thighs are trembling enough that Arthur believes it. Arthur settles his hands on them -- both for his own balance and an attempt to be reassuring. 

There's not really a lot of time, or enough patience between them, for taking this slow. Merlin looks like he might come just from Arthur _breathing_ in the direction of his dick. And Arthur's not going to deny that it's a bit of high. He's had too many reserved, world-wary partners to not appreciate the brilliance of getting this kind of reaction. 

For a moment, he wishes he'd taken Merlin home, wishes he'd had the time now to take Merlin apart until he'd ruined him for anyone else. 

He'd just have to settle for sucking Merlin's brain out through his dick, and hope it's enough to earn himself another round some time. With that goal in mind, he closes his mouth on the tip of Merlin's cock, relishes the choked gasp he gets, and when he's confident Merlin isn't about to spill his load just yet, Arthur slowly sinks down further.

Merlin's thighs are still shaking beneath his hands, but Arthur figures it's the strain of holding back and not nerves anymore. 

He pulls off just long enough to say, "Go for it." He opens wide around the head, moves his hands to hold Merlin's bony hips, and jerks them forward until Merlin gets the hint.

Merlin moans like a pornstar as he starts to fuck into his mouth. 

“Oh, God. This is so much better than a drink.”

Arthur would ask what he means but his mouth is full and he’s already found a great rhythm, fisting his cock in time with Merlin’s thrusts. When Merlin's hands find his hair, those long fingers curling in and tugging just right, he’s only seconds away from spilling his load on the dirty cement floor.

They come -- Merlin down Arthur’s throat and Arthur onto Merlin’s shoelaces -- just as someone begins to jiggle the door handle. It's locked but Arthur honestly doesn't know if there's another key.

Voice raspy, Arthur shouts, “Occupied!” as though that's a normal reply for a supply cupboard to give. 

Merlin giggles, tucking his softening dick away. 

Arthur grins at him, pleased to have made that sound occur and already wanting to do it again. They dress in a rush, fearing another interruption, and Merlin gets his shirt on backwards. He looks a bit shell-shocked and Arthur can't blame him; he feels the same.

They stumble from the cupboard flushed and laughing, eagerly entering their numbers into each other's phones.

Then Merlin takes another step closer to the black lighted area of the club and freezes. 

His eyes bulge as he looks down at the glowing message across his chest. And second later, he takes off in a run, shouting, “Gwaine, you fucker, you are dead!”

Merlin's pink cup rolls across the floor, stopping at Arthur shoe. _It’s my birthday, buy me a drink,_ it reads and Arthur's face burns hot. "Well, shit."

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm marguerite26 on tumblr](http://marguerite26.tumblr.com/)


End file.
